


Change of Heart

by YsaX64



Category: Voltron: Defender of the Universe (1984)
Genre: Alien Culture, Allura tries her best, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Culture Shock, F/M, Lotor is an idiot, but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: The Drule Prince Lotor has tried everything to snatch Allura for his side, but she was always quick to escape his grasp. Lotor tries one last gambit by turning to the witch Haggar and bet everything into this last attempt.





	1. Freaky Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> DotU grabbed me by my metaphorical balls.  
> I have no regrets, thanks Crystal.  
> Also, thanks to my beta dragonofyang, Shed, Fedorivan, Discord fail, Goon... You have so many names, it eludes me, darling.

“Now, Cossack, do you understand your orders?”

Cossack had done almost everything in his life as a Drule soldier. He had pillaged and he had killed, somehow using all of those hard-learned skills to burrow his way to the top of the food chain. And so he had gained a name for himself as a Commander, crawling his way to the halls of the royals: Prince Lotor and King Zarkon.

Yet he had never expected to be sitting on a cruiser, in the middle of a forest in Arus and not battling on the skies, much less to be receiving the key of Prince Lotor’s room.

“Hm, yeah.” He muttered arching a brow while looking at the silvery key on his hand.

Lotor scoffed over his hesitant response, but let it pass either way. His orders were as simple as they could be. The Prince had to smirk to himself, pleased with the solution he had come up, “After so long,” he savored the next words, closing his eyes, “the princess will come to me today.”

Cossack couldn’t help but to shrug over the Prince’s words. He had heard those words too many times, most of them yelled in the battlefield, chasing around those Lions and not just hiding in the trees. But then Lotor turned on his heels and entered his room, closing the door behind him with a deep chuckle that soon build up to a full laugh, loud enough that it would probably startle anyone else on the ship.

The Commander grunted, getting off his chair, and reminding himself bitterly that there was no one else in the ship for Lotor to scare. Cossack fumbled with the key, locking the door as Lotor had ordered. “‘When the Princess passes, close the door again,’” he muttered to himself, utterly confused by Lotor’s antics, mimicking the Prince’s mouth with his hand, “‘Me, on the other hand… No matter what I say, you cannot allow me to go out of the room for the rest of day, at least.’”

Cossack groaned over the simplistic yet so incomprehensible orders. Sinking down in the chair, the Commander prepared himself for a nap. It just wasn’t possible that the Princess would willing come to them, so he might as well get comfy while suffering through this terribly boring day.

* * *

 

Lotor smirked to himself, satisfied with the prospect fate had offered to him.

Well, Haggar had helped.

_“Well, hush, what do you need from me?”_

_Haggar let out a sigh, knowing fully well who were the few people who had the boldness to storm her lair that way._

_Lotor growled, almost tripping over Blue Cat, as the intelligent feline knew better than to stay too close of the volatile Prince._

_“I need a way to bring Princess Allura to me, witch. She refuses my every proposal,” he scoffed as the witch just cackled in response, “I tried everything, every courting rejected—“_

_“Enough so you would even ask for my help?”_

_The Prince growled at the truth of her words, but he knew better than to refuse. If it was his pride what was holding him from Allura at this point, he would have to swallow this bitter pill, no matter how much it pained him, “Yes,” his voice was strained, almost a hiss between his teeth._

_Haggar seemed surprised, humming and walking along the fetid pots and steaming cauldrons._

_Lotor’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heels. He was barely willing to ask for help and he would not humiliate himself enough to beg for it. If the witch did not wish to help him, then very well. He just needed to bring Allura with him one way or another, so she could finally truly understand the wealth and the affection he was offering her._

_As he was just pushing the heavy door, Haggar’s voice stilled his steps, “Do you not wish to see what I have for you, Sire?”_

_The Prince frowned, looking over his shoulders, as the witch now held two vials, one on each of her hand. The right one was of greenish hue, as the left one was deep red. Yet he narrowed his serpentine eyes, suspicious of the witch._

_“Did you had them already?” Lotor stepped back, releasing his grip on the door._

_Haggar’s response, however, did not please him in the slightest, “Of course. Considering your progress,” a low growl escaped his throat, yet the witch merely continued, “it was just a matter of time before you became desperate.”_

_The Prince bit the inside of his cheeks, his back tensing upon the mockery. His only solace was that if this were the price to pay for her attention, for a mere moment of her undivided care, then he would do it as much as needed and gladly take the disdain. When Haggar simply smiled to him, cackling and dangling the pair of vials before his eyes, he managed to mutter, his voice raspy and strained, “Very well, old hag. Tell me what this witchcraft of yours is.”_

_Her cackle echoed in the lair, as that cursed cat hovered between the cauldrons. “This vial,” she then shook the one her left hand, the red flickering in the darkness, “contains a liquid that will allow you to change minds with the Princess.” She then dangled the other one, the green similar to moss, “And this one will revert the effects. Like this, the ‘princess’ will be in your body, while you can just waltz to your cruiser and bring her to Doom.”_

_A guttural noise escaped his throat, arching a brow as he stared the red vial on her hand. The witch seemed pleased with his surprise, and just that was enough to arouse his suspicions again._

_“You cannot believe that I think you will do this without a cost,” he growled, his voice low and threatening._

_Her yellow eyes narrowed to slits, but the smile never left her face._

_Lotor never had needed much incentive to arouse his boldness, and just this change of expression was enough for him to keep pushing her, “And I just have to drink it and it’s over?”_

_She shook her head slowly, “She will have to drink it too.” When he snarled, her response clearly not what he wanted to hear, Haggar merely shrugged. “Not everything will come dancing to your lap like your girls.”_

_That quieted him down, the harem that he had abandoned in order to chase his princess was still a sensitive point._

_“Especially when it regards Princess Allura of Arus, you should already know.”_

_Lotor crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t need the witch to tell him any of this. The Prince already knew that the conquest for her heart was his most difficult yet. He had subjected himself to his father’s mockery, he had left his harem for once and for all, and Lotor knew he would crawl through broken glass to reach her if it came to it. Worse, he was fully aware that none of it would ever please her enough, every attempt to bring her affection, to offer her the universe in a silver platter rejected with slaps and cries of despair._

_“So be it, witch. Take of me whatever price you will, I care not anymore.” He muttered angrily those last words, any remnants of his ego tossed aside over the mere possibility of having her in his arms._

_The witch seemed pleased with his words, humming while handing over the two vials to the Prince._

_“However, do not expect me to pay your cost if it doesn’t work,” he barked, his voice unexpectedly taut, restraining his anger over having to resort to a witch once more._

_She cackled then, Lotor seeming more like an insolent whelp compared to Zarkon’s destructive tantrums. She had seen worse than the lovesick, volatile pup. “Do not blame me if the failure is your hands, Sire.”_

_His eyes widened in his indignation and he opened his mouth, but she silenced him with her next words, “Tears and forceful words won’t bring her to your side, Lotor. Not in the way you want.”_

_Her voice softened in the last words, but it did nothing to quell Lotor’s wrath, his voice finally snapping in a guttural yell, the Prince well versed on making himself heard through a battlefield, “She rejects my every proposition.” The obvious statement made Blue Cat cough in the distance, “I would shower her in wealth, I would hand her the heads of her enemies, I would bring her affection if only Allura would let me.”_

_His grip on the vials tightened, Lotor fully aware that any more strength and he would break the glass in his hands, ruining one more possibility of having her in his arms. As Haggar answered nothing and his anger cooled, his hand relaxed as the Prince merely stared at the vials, tracing the glass with a thumb._

_Haggar’s voice in the distance did not carried anymore the scornful tone, yet it still pierced through Lotor’s mind._

_“Then you’ll have to find another way.”_

And Lotor’s smile widened, pleased with the prospects of finally bringing the fickle Princess to Doom with him. Even better, no one would suspect of it until it was far too late. He strode on the room with purpose, observing his handiwork.

He had picked each of his most prized conquests, spoils of war that could please her eye, laying all of them on the large table in the center of the room. Perhaps, upon looking at the proof of his many achievements, she could finally see what he was offering to her. On the table, there was also wine, but not too much for it, for it would have been in bad taste. Just the best for her, and even if it had been hard to bring it all on a cruiser made for stealth like this one, it was all worth it.

Worth it for his tiny, fickle princess.

Lotor hummed in approval of his own work, imagining already how it would feel to hold Allura in his arms, no restrains or despair, no Voltron Force to mingle with his plans. His expression soured, as he stilled in place, staring at a locked safe box.

His tiny and fickle princess. His father would never let him live it down, as if his constant mockery on how the maiden of Arus was weak and fragile enough that she would probably snap in two while taking him wasn’t sufficient. However, he furrowed his brows, a low hiss escaping his lips.

Zarkon was wrong, Lotor was sure of it.

His father was unable to see strength in anything other flames and fury. Conquest and blood was the only way for him, fire was the only force that he would ever recognize. Lotor closed his eyes, aware that this was his same fate, as he was a man of fiery passion. Nonetheless, when he looked into the eyes of that tiny nymph, he had learned to recognize her own passion. Perhaps she would never set a planet ablaze to show him her unbridled desire, but this was not what he yearned for.

Those blue eyes of ice, she had the strength of a storm, the frigid rage of a blizzard within her.

It first had started with a mere flicker of ice in her eyes. The same frigid daggers that she had turned on him, relentless in her adamant refusal. Then he caught more glimpses of her expressions, all on those big blue eyes of hers. Soft as a river stream while talking to her companions, raging like the waves on a stormy day while slapping his face and insulting him. And so he was lost in open sea, torn between keeping his head up to flee this nymph, and letting himself drown to be consumed by her.

He smirked to himself, knowing fully well which one he had chosen.

And now he was like a man in the desert, unbearably thirsty for even a mere droplet of her and his father would never take this away from him.

Yet he couldn’t dwell on it. His father was in Doom, far from him and unaware of his gambit. It was no use to be thinking of Zarkon, when the Princess was so close, yet so oblivious of his plan. His smirk widened into a wicked grin, as he kneeled before the safe box and typed a code. Soon the metal door opened with a click, revealing the two vials, the red one with only half of its content.

He picked up the crimson vial, a mischievous glint in his eyes. The witch had said that he could only take it at same time as the Princess otherwise it would not work. He scoffed, as Haggar had merely said that he would know when to drink it once he inquired how he could know when she would drink. So all he could do was wait.

But Lotor wasn’t a patient man.

He scoffed, tightening his grip on the glass and slamming the door shut, the safe box locking with a quiet click. He then walked over to the large bed on the corner of the room with a throaty laugh. Just beside it, there was a roll of thin rope. After all, he could not trust that she would not end up fleeing either way, considering Cossack’s enthusiasm over his guard job.

Still, once he sat on the corner of the bed and started tying his own arm to the bedside, one thought flared on his mind. At that point, with the rope half tied to his arm, the Prince couldn’t help but to imagine Allura, utterly confused and trying to free herself, trapped in a foreign room and in a strange body.

This idea made his heart tighten.

“ _Like this she will only cry and reject you more,”_ Haggar chastised him in his head, as he grimaced. Of course. It would be of no use if she couldn’t explore his conquests. That’s why he had prepared everything for her. Lotor let the rope fell to his side, kicking off his boots and settling on the bed.

Impatient as he was, Lotor shifted constantly on the mattress, dangling the red colored vial on his face, waiting for the aforementioned signal. After some time, as Lotor’s short patience was on its last straw, he almost cursed Haggar for her deception, when the liquid started glimmering in the dark room.

His eyes widened for a second, but it was no long before he opened the ampoule and drank it hungrily.

A second later, Lotor was blinking rapidly, sitting on a large table. In his mouth, there was no more a vial, but a cup. He felt the sudden difference, his senses dulled and feeling unexpectedly small.

However, his surprise didn’t last long, for he already knew what he had done. His eyes darted to the side, seeing a single servant, with an odd haircut. Lotor pondered what he was going to do for a second, suppressing a wicked smile, until he started having a cough fit.

The said servant almost jumped out of his skin, and like this Lotor was certain. Tossing the cup aside, to the surprise of all those Arusians in the room, he screamed, his voice even more high-pitched than he expected, “That servant, he tried to poison me!”

Upon the paling look on his face and the subsequent uproar, Lotor knew he had done right. A grin almost slipped onto his face, until one of the Princess’ subjects, the one with a mustache, approached him, “Are you well, Princess?”

Lotor simply dismissed him with a wave, laughing it off, “I’m fine, but had he succeeded…”

Before he could complete his phrase, he was draw into a suffocating hug by that wretched woman. “Oh, my baby,” The Prince rolled his eyes, as he had never thought he would found so displeasing to be pressed against a woman’s breasts.

As she continued to ramble on about his safety or, better, Princess Allura’s safety, Lotor considered how sad Allura would be if he picked up that butter knife and shoved it—

“ _Do you want to cause her more tears, Lotor?”_ Haggar’s old, creaky voice echoed in his mind, as he tried to coax the strange woman to get off him with a few pats on her back. As the minutes ticked by, Lotor found out that if he tried to truly growl, all that got out was a strangled hiss.

The man with a mustache, and Lotor never thought he would be grateful to him out of everyone, finally persuaded the strange woman to let him alone, and Lotor’s—or rather, Allura’s—rib cage was very thankful. The Prince’s lips curled up in a wicked smile, earning a few nervous glances of the servants roaming around.

He clumsily held back the expression, fully aware that Allura would probably not react like that. Yet he couldn’t help but to sneer over the appearance of that blasted Captain. Keith stopped by his side, his eyes full of this worry that made Lotor’s stomach flip.

“Are you okay, Allura?” when Lotor just nodded, his fingers fumbling as he looked for that one butter knife, the captain continued “We’ve taken that servant in custody, our soldiers will have to interrogate him now.”

Keith then shot him a smile, and Lotor pondered if, with Allura’s body, he could use the knife to carve him a new one before anyone stopped him.

Haggar then appeared in the back of his mind, cackling at him, and all he wanted was to strangle her and that creepy cat of hers. He knew what the witch in his head was about to say. So he dropped the knife back onto the table, even as the Captain had the boldness to put an arm over his shoulder.

Lotor grimaced, wondering if the Princess would have welcomed the touch. Jealousy boiled deep down his stomach, as the pilot of the Black Lion helped him get up out of the chair. The rest of the Voltron Force all flocked around him, almost suffocating him with their bickering to get to their Princess first.

“I’m… fine.” His voice spiked, the last word turning into a high-pitched strangled noise. Lotor paled, fully aware that he was way too used to barking orders across the battlefield, as his usual tone of voice that demanded to be heard did not fit the demure and dainty Allura.

The boys made a collective noise of distress, showering him with unwanted attention. Lotor swallowed hard, not even bothering to pay attention to their words. “Er, fine, I will just…”

Then the annoying woman just came back, the mustache man unable to hold her back for so long. “Allura, my darling, you should rest in your room now.”

Lotor took a deep inhale, his eyes widening, as all he could do at the moment was to utter, “What?”

It was a high-pitched hiss, surprising all of her companions, but he couldn’t avoid the utter confusion over this caretaker giving him orders. Worse, she wasn’t only giving Prince Lotor an order, she was giving the Princess Allura of Arus an order.

When all the response he received was the looks of bewilderment from her companions, he had to cross his arms over his chest and answer himself, “No.”

He was now learning how to not scream in Allura’s voice, and now that blasted Captain was getting close to him again.

“Allura, since there is someone here attempted against your life.” In the back, the tiny pilot just nodded, as the Captain continued, “You should rest in your room until we find the true culprit.”

* * *

 

Allura’s arm fell limp, the tinkling sound of glass breaking echoing in the otherwise-silent room. The princess was dizzy, stars bursting behind her eyelids as she gritted her teeth. A broken, raspy sound reached her ears and an alarm blared in her mind for a moment before she realized that the sound came from her throat.

A sweet taste lingered on her mouth and, out of instinct, she grazed her tongue over her teeth, her blood chilling soon after. A sharp sting. The foreign sensation was new and rough, as Allura opened her eyes, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling.

Allura wasn’t at her castle anymore.

She felt the panic rising up her throat, hot and acidic, as she tried to get up, her movements heavy. The daze was like a haze over her mind, numbing her senses as she tried to get up. She got up on her feet, the cold floor sharp on her cold feet, as she vaguely felt something sharp poking her belly, but her mind was only focused on getting up.

Her eyes sought in the room and part of her expected to feel dizzy, but her feet were planted on the ground, the muscles of her body tensing as if expecting to battle or to flee. The room was spacious; the furniture, spartan, but the overall style was unmistakable.

_Drule._

The blood ran from her face, as she muttered a low oath, her voice still oddly gruffer than usual, but she didn’t notice the glaring change, worried only about her escape. Allura had been captured by Drule forces, somehow. There didn’t seem to have much furniture at all, with the glaring exception of a large table in the middle of the room.

Allura arched her eyebrows, surprised over the strange selection of items. Relics, she corrected herself. Relics of the most diverse, not to say bizarre, set of long lost cultures, civilizations and people lost to the Drule. Jewels, technology and she could even recognize important ornaments, inscriptions of languages that no one spoke anymore, let alone actively write, all exposed to the air and to anyone to see, as if it was some mere decoration.

It made her stomach flip.

Nonetheless, she was hardly focused on the trinkets, her eyes seeking the room for a escape. Whoever her captor was, they seemed to have ignored any protective measures. A roll of rope laid beside her bed untouched, apparently unused. She wasn’t about to question this lack of care, though.

Allura narrowed her eyes, with an animalistic growl, analysing the doors at opposite sides of the room. She heard the soft sound of water dripping just on the other side one of the doors, so it was clear that one led to a bathroom. Slowly, she walked to the remaining one, made of sturdy metal.

If she was lucky enough, her captor may have been just careless enough to not only leave her hands and feet free, but also the doors. It was wishful thinking, Allura knew that much, as she felt a low rumble trembling her chest with a growl, but it was all that she had in the moment.

She reached out for the handle and dread settled in her stomach, a primal groan escaping her throat before she could help it. Locked. Allura pressed her lips together, shaking her head slowly, determined to not panic. Arus needed her and she would not fail. She couldn’t. Her sharp ears pick up a sound, a low constant noise beyond the metal door, a rumbling so faint she wasn’t sure how she could distinguish it, but it was clear. Snoring.

A burst of fickle hope flared in her chest. Perhaps not careless enough to leave the door unlocked, but just reckless enough to sleep on his post. Still, Allura couldn’t let go of the opportunity, as sleep was fleeting and the guard could wake up at any point. So she didn’t waste anymore time as she turned on her heels, walking with heavy, echoing steps to the remaining door, ignoring the table.

As she opened the door, Allura came face-to-face with Crown Prince Lotor of Doom.

Her eyes widened, staring for a fraction of second at an equally wide-eyed Lotor, before bolting away with an unnatural speed. Allura slammed the door shut, leaning back against in it in a panicked attempt of keeping him there, even though she knew that he could with ease just burst open the door.

Yet he didn’t.

Allura tried to catch her breath, the noise echoing in the silent room, unusually loud. She put a hand over her mouth in an attempt of stifling the sound, but her breath hitched when she felt the rough fabric of a dark glove. A dark, black, and eerily familiar glove.

Dread flooded her chest as her eyes trailed further down, recognizing the skull belt and the Drule uniform. She blinked in disbelief, murmuring, “What?”

And the voice that escaped her lips was not her own, but gruffer, louder, more masculine. Eerily familiar.

Allura bit her lip. the sharp sting of a fang drawing out blood, the flavor of iron a welcome change comparing to the bile rising on her throat. As the unavoidable yet confusing realization refused to sank in, Allura opened the door again, quickly finding out that who she had in front of her was not Lotor in skin and bone, but a mirror, reflecting the undeniable truth.

She stared back in awe and dread, the expression utterly foreign in this strange body, one that had never seen before even in Lotor himself, as she couldn’t recall any time Lotor had appeared before her not angry nor arrogant. Lips draped open, revealing the glint of fangs; white hair draped over his shoulders; eyes of molten gold, slit pupils staring back back at her in disbelief.

She seemed out of her world, detached of this foreign but familiar face glaring back at her in the mirror. Allura sank to her knees, the dull sound of of his bones hitting the ground offensive to her new, sensitive ears.

The Princess of Arus shut her eyes, her head spinning in disbelief. The last moment that she remembered was sitting down to have lunch calmly, just like any normal day. A maelstrom roared impossibly loud in her chest, the surroundings a distant memory as she let her back hit the metal door.

That couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare, the strangest of nightmares. Allura had woken up in a sweat many times by terrifying dreams of Zarkon and Alfor, but never had her subconscious mustered such odd thought.

As she tried to catch her breath, avoiding to discover whatever Lotor had last eaten, the realization sank in, the odd and strange realization creeping in the back of her mind. Her hands fumbled in this new, foreign body, feeling in disbelief the hard, tense muscles beneath the uniform and touching the wild, white mane behind his back.

Her hands trembled, each movement more violent and erratic in Lotor’s body, as it seemed ready for war already, sharp reflexes making an already fragilized Allura jump out of her skin at every minuscule sound, be it a drop of water in the sink or the creak of an engine in the distance.

After a few moments of distant numbness, Allura tried to recompose herself. She couldn’t afford to panic. Her planet needed her and the only way she could ever dispel whatever curse was bestowed upon her was if she could escape Lotor’s room and make it back to her castle.

_Lotor’s room._

The Princess shook her head, averting her eyes to the pristine floor. It was no time to muse about Lotor, because in every second she stalled, Arus was without protection or worse. Her blood chilled as soon as the terrifying a thought passed by her head. If she was truly stuck in Lotor’s body, then the Voltron Force probably doesn’t even know she disappeared. Her last memory was of her eating at the table, so she couldn’t possibly fathom what the pilots thought had happened.

Allura growled, clenching her fist as the frustration of her currently helpless situation got to her nerves. The harsh sound echoed in the bathroom, taking the girl by surprise of such threatening sound coming from her. Allura blinked fast and shook her head, determined to find herself a escape soon.

The Princess then started searching for a window of some sort. The bathroom was large, but considering Lotor’s luxurious habits and boasting, she couldn’t put it past him to have such luxuries. A bathtub and a shower, full of many hair products, even more than what she used. But no windows, to her disappointment.

Then, from the threshold of her hearing, a faint yet constant beeping echoed just beyond the door.

Allura stilled, as if she had been caught red-handed. For a few seconds, the slow beep noise continued, the Princess hoping it would just go away eventually. As the sound continued, Allura took in a deep breath, steeling her resolve. If she wanted to go back to Arus and somehow regain her body, staying tucked in a bathroom, worse, Lotor’s bathroom, would do nothing.

With an animalistic groan, the Princess stiffened her back, flexing her fingers as she walked with purpose back to the room. Allura furrowed her brows, as she found the annoying device on top of the large table. A tiny controller, with a few buttons with letters she could not recognize, and a flashing red light.

Still frowning her brows over those indecipherable letters, she hesitantly touched one of them. A creaking sound echoed in the room. Just in front of her, a screen descended from the roof.

Zarkon himself was sitting stiffly on his throne just beyond the screen, his face twisted in a scowl. Just beside him, the witch Haggar stared directly at Allura, a smirk dancing on her fanged lips. Allura’s blood chilled, as she resisted the temptation to double down as if she had been punched in the gut.

“Well, my incompetent son. I see that you’re in Arus once again to chase after that pet of yours."

* * *

 

Lotor cursed.

It wasn’t anything that the Princess would do, but while he was stuck in her room, no one would care. He was almost tempted to bang his head against the door, wondering if he managed to put all of his rage into it, maybe he could break the door.

Knowing better than to try, Lotor simply turned on his heel and regarded the room before him. In fact, he had been there before, but he had never had the opportunity of truly get a look on it. He inhaled deeply, relishing on the sight of all of this room so characteristically hers. The Prince then circled around the room, drinking every detail with eagerness.

A rustling of tiny paws alarmed him.

Turning on his heel with a rapid motion, Lotor did not account for the dress in his movement. He stepped on Allura’s dress, falling backwards with a screech. He fell on his back, lacking any semblance of grace as he scowled. How could Allura walk around in this, he couldn’t help but ask. Soon, the paws came to his aid.

Mice.

Four little rodents, miserable pests wandering right on Allura’s room. The fattest one got closer of him, Lotor suddenly despised of those creatures that dared enter Allura’s room so unabashedly. With a rapid motion that Allura’s body didn’t quite kept up with, the Prince tried to get up, entangling himself with the long dress.

A loud curse go out of his lips, the word feeling dirtier when spoken in the soft, melodic tones of Allura’s voice. Quickly he got hold of a chair, avoiding falling backwards again. The insolent mice just stared at him, one of them even daring to tilt his head in confusion. Lotor narrowed his eyes to the animals, snarling as he got up. In response, the mice scurried away, tucking themselves in some hole on the wall.

The Prince couldn’t help but wonder why this hole would be in a Princess’ room, but he had more to do at the moment. As if it wasn’t enough that all of them had the insolence of giving orders to her, now she was held captive in her own castle. The only solace for Lotor was that Allura would probably be righteously furious over such disrespect, so he found no reason to leave his discontent any less than clear to her companions.

It didn’t change his fate.

All because he had made a fuss about that one servant. Of course, he was traitorous scum. It had been easy enough to track down one rotten apple among the bunch, one that was willing to accept money for it. Even easier was to send the money anonymously, leaving a whole lot of false trails leading nowhere to keep those Arusian soldiers entertained for a while. Lotor wondered for a brief moment if it truly had been a good idea to call him out so suddenly. He scoffed, waving away any other possibility.

He couldn’t possibly just leave unpunished someone who was willing to slip poison in Allura’s drink for money.

Perhaps that one servant could have been useful in the future, but Lotor knew that it was better to cut himself off one option than to leave the possibility of this man poisoning Allura. The very thought of her dying because of something Lotor could have avoided was enough to make his stomach flip.

Lotor crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at the skirts of that blasted dress that made walking so difficult. With a scowl, he proceed to gather the excess of fabric on his hands, holding it on the front of his body where it was less of a nuisance. Just like that, walking was now much easier. Lotor smirked to himself, pleased with having found a way of making the very thought of moving less insufferable.

However, it was no time to stroll around Allura’s room.

He had to escape or to find a way of putting her subjects in their place. First, there was the window, which he had easy access to. Lotor shook his head. Perhaps if he was in his body, he might have had the boldness, but he was still too unfamiliar with this human, his senses dulled and his strength drastically reduced.

He sneered, glaring at the closed door. Then a stray, wicked thought caught him off guard. His lips curled up in a roguish smile, as he strode towards the mirror with determination. He was still holding the dress on his hands, so Lotor was very pleased with the reflection in the mirror.

Allura had chosen to put her hair down that day, a decision that Lotor couldn’t help but to appreciate. Her sun-kissed hair ran down her back, and his eyes trailed down, drinking on every curve and appreciating how the fabric was snug on her body after he had pulled his skirts to the front.

Slowly, Lotor drank on every one of her curves, admiring the different angles of her body more closely than ever. He trailed his gaze up, wondering how easy it would be to take off this heavy dress for a little while and to put this mirror close to the bed.

The heat on his veins turned to ice as soon as he found himself staring back at Allura’s reflection. A wicked grin danced on his face, her blue eyes staring back with a heated lust. It didn’t belong there.

For so long, Lotor had sought such similar gaze, to see what kind of tempest he could unveil before his eyes. Yet he couldn’t help but to recoil from it.

He drew back from the mirror, letting her skirts fall from his hands in the process. It was out of place to see such a lascivious look on Allura’s eyes, even for him who yearned for it. Such fiery desire didn’t belong there, staring back at a mirror with no purpose.

He tried to let out a growl, but all it got out was a strangled noise. The Prince shook his head. _“Why fool around? Are you not enough of a man even for this? Take it, then maybe you will stop being such an idiot over this weak woman of yours ,”_ He could even see his father’s scowl, mocking his repeated attempts, over and over.

It would be easy to just delay his escapade back to the cruiser for a little longer, to spread Allura’s legs on that pretty bed of hers. To uncover exactly where her body liked to be touched.

Yet Lotor found himself in the odd predicament of refusing himself this pleasure. He crossed his arms, letting out a groan of displeasure. If nothing else, at least he should be trying to find a way to get out of that blasted room once and for all.

When the thought passed by his mind, however, a light started flashing on one of the tables. It had Voltron’s symbol on it, so Lotor soon assumed to be one of her companions. He narrowed his eyes, wondering how could he escape his situation, but glad to have something else on his thoughts other than Allura’s body.

A stray thought, however, made his lips curl into a pleased smile.

* * *

 

As if talking to Zarkon himself wasn’t enough of a punch in the gut, the disdain in his eyes was enough to make a shiver run down Allura’s spine. The King was keeping a strong grip on his gold scepter, making it seem like he was about to throw it on the screen.

“So, are you even meeker than I thought? Spit it out. I know you’re in Arus already.”

Zarkon narrowed his eyes, perhaps suspect of Allura’s faltering stance. She suddenly felt dizzy, her knees weakening before his menacing presence, even then, Allura forced out,

“I’m sorry—”

The word felt ragged and rough, and Allura winced at Zarkon’s deafening growl.

“If this princess of yours has made you weak enough so you can’t even muster an excuse for yourself, then you’re better off just staying right there, so you can burn alongside it.”

Allura winced, but she narrowed her eyes at the raging king. Even if being in King Zarkon’s presence was enough to leave her trembling, Allura just couldn’t allow this to continue.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Allura took in a deep breath, doing her best to stare deep inside the yellow eyes of the reptilian king. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Haggar narrowing her eyes at her, measuring the Princess’ movements. “Father,” She winced for a moment, bile rising on her throat over referring to Zarkon with such care, “I did not mean to give offense. However, I will do everything in my power to try to capture Arus, but—“

“But? I’ve heard many of those already, Lotor. What is it this time, Voltron or that little princess?”

Allura took in a deep breath, her mind racing as she tried to how Lotor himself would react. She always had some vague awareness that even Zarkon might not favor his son, yet she had no idea how deep ran the hatred. Her chest tightened, as a fleeting hope of making use out of her horrible situation crossed her mind.

If there was anyone in the universe that could convince King Zarkon of leaving Arus alone, that would have to be the Crown Prince of Doom himself.

Her mouth was dry, Lotor’s rough voice seeming even raspier as she said, “Father, may I make a request?” The word “father” rolled hard on her tongue, leaving a bad taste. Yet she forced herself to glare right back into his yellow, scornful eyes. Lotor would not flinch against him, so Allura couldn’t. She was not going to give herself away.

“I don’t think you have the right of asking for anything right now, Lotor.” His dry voice cracked as he stared right back on her eyes, sending goosebumps.

“Sire,” Zarkon turned his head to the witch, and Allura quickly followed suit. Haggar cackled ominously, “Perhaps it is for the best to hear him.”

She said that with the certainty of a statement, narrowing her eyes at the trembling princess, now trapped in a body too big for her. Haggar’s eyes narrowed as her fanged lips curled up with a smile, seeming amused at Princess’ tenseness.

Allura narrowed her eyes at her and instinctively her face turned into a snarl.

Zarkon huffed, apparently shrugging, “Then so be it. What is the nonsense that you have to say this time?”

Allura found herself in a predicament, her eyes darting from side to side as she steeled her resolve. “I believe that the Princess of Arus,” Zarkon seemed to sneer as a reaction to her name, and Allura felt a knot tightening on her stomach, “She is willing to propose a peace treaty, one that can leave both sides alone.”

Allura winced at Zarkon’s dumbfounded stare. Then Haggar’s cackle confirmed her suspicions. She felt her leg muscles tightening, as if this foreign body was already preparing itself to run. Allura had committed a mistake.

The King beyond the screen scoffed, his face turning into a terrifying scowl and, as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Allura had to fight back the desire to hide, “What are you blathering?” His voice roared in the otherwise silent room, “Has this woman of yours weakened you, Lotor?”

Allura’s rage was bubbling on her stomach, the foreign sentiment feeling like fire scorching her veins. Yet everything seemed to be flowing too quickly, as Zarkon continued his tantrum, “She has made you useless.” His tone had lowered, yet the sibilant hiss was no any less threatening. “You were supposed to capture Arus, then you became stuck to the idea of marrying her.”

Her mouth fell open, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. However, Allura was still dizzy of the excess of information and Zarkon never needed much incentive to keep talking, “And now you want to allow her and her puny planet to be free. What else do you want to give to her, our entire Empire on her lap?”

Her heart, or better, Lotor’s heart hammered, almost as if attempting to set itself free from its cage, “King Zarkon.” All the pretenses of impersonating Lotor seemed to have slipped away from her, as she snarled out of instinct, her boldness flaring over his disrespect for both her and his own son, “This is a mistake…”

“The only mistake I ever committed was you, Lotor,” Zarkon snapped back at his son, and for a second Allura thought that he was going to jump out of the screen and strangle her while cursing his own son. “This little woman of yours has weakened you, Lotor. She will be your downfall, she and this unbridled lust of yours. Almost turning you traitor your own people.” He barked a mocking laugh, Allura wincing at the sound, “Have you even bedded her yet?”

Allura then felt a heat on her cheeks, taking a step back instinctively over his shameless suggestion.

Zarkon sneered, gauging her reaction with scorn, “How useless. You might as well stay there, rot in this piece of rock alongside your precious, weak princess.”

Haggar narrowed her eyes, analyzing Lotor’s body and trailing her eyes over his frame. She cackled, as Zarkon ended the call.

Allura then found herself sinking down on one of the chairs, staring blankly, trying to catch her breath as she dealt with the overwhelming amount of emotions coursing through her.

  
  



	2. Change of Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, at first, I thought this was going to be a one-shot... The length of this chapter proved to me that this wasn't meant to happen haha.  
> Anyway, enjoy a little bit more of these Body Swap shenanigans

Lotor scoffed, observing as a deer scuttled away into the deep woods. Had he been in his body, Lotor was fairly sure he could sneak on that animal with ease, the greatest of ease. Still, he was in Allura's body, more inadequate than ever strolling down in an animal trail towards his ship.

A basket dangling in his hands, awkward as he made an effort to hold onto her skirts. But it was his only ticket for freedom. The idiot friends of his little princess, they adamantly refused to let her out, even though she clearly outranked them. It took much more of a fuss than he could ever expect, but his memory was good enough to pull something that she would do. Berry picking.

With sweat prickling on his skin, Lotor smirked, looking up to the sky, in between the dense woods. The sky was cloudy, the old man had even dared to give him a little advise of “avoiding the rain”. Lotor let out a laugh, almost running back to his ship with pride swelling in his chest. The rain would serve only to conceal even further his escape.

Nonetheless, before he could escape, he had to get to Allura first.

And his smirk widened into a grin as the song of victory thrummed in his chest.

* * *

 

Allura collapsed on her knees, her eyes staring blankly at the floor. Zarkon. Her heart no — his heart, the heart of the demon, pulsing with Zarkon’s blood in his veins— pounding without control in his chest.

She was thinking of nothing and everything at the same time, her mind a garbled mess of words and feelings and panic. Nothing seemed cohesive, much less the bizarre scene that had just unfolded before her eyes.

Allura got up awkwardly, an instinctive gesture, propelled more because of the instinct of her brain of not sitting on the ground than any willingness to do anything else. Shaky but numb, her expression was empty as she paced around the room for a few moments. Her mind was consumed by thoughts of Zarkon, of Lotor, of Arus, but she reached no conclusion.

There was no conclusion to an idea that had no start, for the spoils of war in the middle of the room meant nothing for her numb mind, but at the same time, nothing but her and the suffocating silence seemed to exist.

It took a few moments before she could notice where she was. Allura looked side to side in confusion, her eyes wandering for a moment before recognizing the sink and the basin she saw before. The bathroom. Lotor's bathroom.

Allura felt the bile rising in her throat as she was brutally reminded of her predicament, her current circumstances in the body of crown prince Lotor of Doom. Son of Zarkon. Her jaw clenched, her fingers curling into fists as she recalled how she had to call that monster _“father”_.

“I'm so sorry, my father,” she muttered under her breath, shifting on her weight where she stands, in the middle of this foreign bathroom. The word _father_ felt filthy in her tongue, uttered by Lotor's raspy voice and after she'd had to use for one of the worst monsters of the universe.

“I'm terribly sorry, my father, I truly hope you can forgive me.”

Allura felt a burning in her chest, this sadness flaring up in her chest. Her arms — his arms, the arms of the demon, muscle, and bone made for war and tyranny — hanged slack on the sides, numbed and useless.

Her throat felt sore and she just wanted this ordeal to end. Zarkon had proven to be even more of a monster than she thought possible. Worse, she'd called him _father._ He'd treated the one who he thought to be his son with disgust, much like the whole rest of the universe. Allura bit her lip, flinching with a low growl as the sharp sting drew blood.

A beast, that was what he was, no different from the erratic and errant son.

Allura tried to take in slow, steady breaths, her muscles feeling sore as the fatigue settled in the foreign body. Lips quivering, she only wished for that ordeal to end, as she tried to cry in despair, but even this strange body had castrated from her.

She let out a frustrated growl, sadness melting into anger and rage as Allura found herself choked in her own tears that never fell, never even burned her eyes. Turning on her heels, she started to sprint back to the door in wrath, determined to break out no matter the cost, but she stopped in her tracks.

In the mirror, there was a furious Prince Lotor. If the look he had before was foreign, that strange surprise in his eyes when she had been facing to face with him, his expression now was more familiar, but not entirely. She recognized it in part, the teeth bared in a half-growl, the brows furrowed in tension, but not all of it. There was this restlessness, swimming in his golden eyes, the quivering of the muscles, one that didn't belong naturally to the arrogant prince.

Allura stared at the mirror and Lotor stared back at her, both in this unnatural impasse of sadness and anger, mingling and mixing together until she didn't know anymore what she felt. She pressed her lips together, her head heavy and her muscles tense, but she was uneasy, fatigued but wary of every movement and every sound in the lonely bathroom.

The princess tried to center herself once more, eyes owlish as she tried to tame her restless mind. Arus needed her and she would not fail. Her eyes snapped back to the door, a phrase that the monster had said to her blaring in her mind.

_“So, are you even meeker than I thought? Spit it out. I know you're in Arus already.”_

Allura paled. The world spun around her for a moment, before she held on the handle of the door, centering herself.

“Arus,” the word slipped from her lips, her eyes focusing on the gloved hand that gripped strongly the handle. Any more force and it would bend to his strength, turning it unusable. But she knew better and, taking in slow, steady breaths, Allura opened the door slowly, facing once more the strange room, but now it was but it wasn't Lotor's room. After all, the torturous conversation with Zarkon at least gave her one invaluable information.

She was in Arus.

Allura pressed her lips together, the start of a growl vibrating in her throat. She didn't know if there was an attack right now, but, if Lotor's superior senses were to be trusted, there was no gunshots or engines roaring in the outside.

Pride swelled in her chest, as she realized that, even if there was, Allura could stop them.

Because now she was Allura no more, but Lotor. And Lotor could fight with his sword, he could command his troops and he could break out of this room if he wished to.

Her eyes darted side to side, looking for something that could be a weapon or if she was lucky, his lazon sword. Perhaps she didn't have the skill of wielding it in battle, but the lazon would be enough to cut that door apart in a moment. Unfortunately, the sword was nowhere to be found.

Allura cursed under her breath, the word feeling even dirtier in Lotor's voice. She started to wander around the room, stifling the panic with an objective; protect Arus at any costs.

There was no weapon to be found, not even the thin rope seemed to have any use in this strange room. Allura walked intense movements, the echo of Lotor's heavy steps the only sound in the silent room. She kneeled down, checking the safebox, but it was locked with a code.

As she ran out of options, Allura pressed her lips together, glancing over the large table in the middle of the room. A bottle of wine and a glass, both untouched and perhaps waiting for Lotor to indulge himself. Allura thought for a moment about breaking the bottle and making a weapon out of it, but she soon shook her head. It was for the best that kept as much composure as Lotor would have, as anything out of place would alarm anyone that saw her.

And she had already alarmed Zarkon enough.

Allura braced herself and started fumbling with the trinkets on the table. There was a bit of everything from each and every corner of the universe. Some of it she could make sense of, statues of deities and paintings in oil, but the rest made no sense for her, amalgams of precious metals and jewels.

Perhaps, much of it would never make sense to anyone else.

By recognizing it as looting, Allura swallowed hard, admitting to herself the truth that perhaps no one would ever understand any of it anymore, as their civilizations were dominated and destroyed by the Drules. They were beautiful pieces, she couldn't deny, but it was like a rose that was plucked. Separated from the garden, the rose's only fate was to wither and die, no one ever knowing what this rose had to do in order to become a rose.

Allura snapped her eyes shut, a low growl escaping her throat. She felt a burning in her chest once more and part of her wanted to cry. It was nothing that Lotor would do, but there was only so much that she could endure.

Her jaw clenched with tension, sadness swirling in her chest, stifled and blooming into anger. Her fingers tightened in the table, her head — his head, this head of a demon, this hydra that no matter how many times he was defeated, he always came back stronger — bowed in defeat.

Letting out a frustrated snarl, Allura looked up again, trying to think of the only thing that mattered for her at that moment: Arus. For as long as Arus was safe, it didn't matter if she was their princess, the prince of Doom or a pauper. And, at that moment, the only way to ensure it was escaping that room.

Her eyes trailed the table, looking for something that might be used as a weapon or otherwise could be useful on her escape. Her interest perked up as she glanced over what looked like an aquarium, no much bigger than a shoebox, with glass dark like obsidian.

She scooted closer, tilting her head to the side as she observed a small set of buttons. Each with a few different letters, but letters that she could recognize. Alura raised a brow, squinting her eyes as she identified the language of the long-lost planet Zaul. For as long as she could remember, the desertic planet was under Drule control, rich in the precious lazon, pierced with endless mining tunnels.

_Open. Guide. Follow._

These were the three buttons that she could recognize easily, the others either too complex or too faded for her to recognize. She let out a laugh, glad that Coran's endless lessons on different languages were useful.

Allura extended her hand, touching the _Open_ button with the pad of a finger, but stopping just short of pressing it. She furrowed her brows, tension seeping through her body as she hesitated. Just a few moments ago, she had pressed an unknown button in very similar circumstances and she still regretted it deeply.

She didn't know what there was inside this strange aquarium.

Pressing her lips together, her eyes snapped side to side of the table, trying to test the other possibilities before committing to another risk. Maybe she wouldn't be face to face with Zarkon again, but there was no telling what here was inside the box.

She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes with a deep breath. Nothing else seemed even vaguely fit for her task and she was rather not destroy everything trying to escape, for the pieces in that room were too valuable for such brutish Allura. Only one option remained.

Allura pressed the button, keeping her eyes closed as she braced herself in instinct, legs tensing as if to run. A moment passed and she heard no sound, no apparent reaction of the device. Slowly, she opened one eye and what she faced utterly surprised her.

The dark glass had faded until it was almost translucent and, as she had predicted, it was similar to an aquarium, with water until half of the recipient. Inside, there was a mechanical snake-like creature, with eyes of cobalt and purple colored metal scales. It was bound to the bottom by three thin metal rods, one for the top of the head, one for the center of the body and one for the tip of the tail. Its mouth was open, displaying a ferocious set of metallic teeth, all malice, and fury.

Smaller, but definitely still visible, there was a tiny humanoid creature, pink and gold with small wings to complete. It stood above the level of water, that seemed to be the domain of the snake beast. It was, much like the other, bound to the bottom by a sole rod of metal. The little creature almost seemed to be fleeing of the ferocious beast, enough for Allura to wonder what it meant.

Allura squinted her eyes, observing the structure. A glint of disappointment flickered in her chest, now aware that there was no object that would aid her in her endeavor. Nonetheless, her curiosity took the best of her, as she wondered what could possibly signify the device in front of her.

Pressing her lips together, she sought inside her memories a reason why such device would hail from Zaul. It was a desertic planet, covered by sand, whose people lived in tunnels that, at that moment, were mostly used for mining. A planet enslaved by the Drules, one that could not waste water in any circumstances.

Yet there it was, something that all indicated to be a decorative piece, lying idle in the table of crown prince Lotor of Doom. Allura furrowed her brows, stroking her chin as the pieces of the puzzles made no sense for her.

Then she was snapped out of her mind when a very faint sound in the distance reached her ears. A rhythmic noise, one that she could only recognize as footsteps. Allura turned her head to the door, straightening her back and broadening her shoulders, in an effort of looking the most similar to the bestial prince as possible.

She squinted her eyes, as the footsteps reached closer and closer, at a fast pace that she could only define as a sprint. Allura, however, could not expect the voice that came from the other side of the door.

“Cossack, what is my — well, Lotor's sword doing on the ground?”

Her own voice.

Her stomach dropped as Allura broke into a cold sweat upon heading her own voice in such odd tone. Wrathful, arrogant and piercing.

“Uuh, well, he just said to ‘take care of it’ and it didn't flee, did it?”

_Her voice_ let out a grunt, annoyed at the guard's lack of care for his job. Allura shifted on her weight, blinking rapidly as she tried to make sense of the surreal situation developing before her eyes.

“Very well. It doesn't matter right now,” the voice on the other side let out a laugh, one full of pride and arrogance that could never belong to her, sending a shiver down her spine.

“I have what I want, so all that I need you to do is to stay put and follow your orders. After all,” the door slid open, much to Allura's dismay, “I have to have a little talk with _myself._ ”

Allura, but not Allura, this foreign yet so familiar person standing before her as the door closed behind her, leaving the Allura and the strange doppelganger alone.

“Hello, Prince Lotor.” she let out a dark chuckle, face contorting in a strange parody of a smirk that didn't quite fit. “Or better, Princess Allura of Arus.”

Allura stood in place, speechless as the doppelganger observed her every movement, her hands tightening on the table, the clench of her jaw and the way the muscles of her legs tensed.

“It's quite a strange view, don't you think? But I hope you enjoyed your little tour through my body.”

Allura's eyes widened, leaving her speechless as her doppelganger walked around the room as if it was a stroll in her garden rather than tiptoeing on a Drule room.

_“Lotor.”_

The word escaped her throat like a furious hiss as the haze of confusion faded away, showing her the obvious conclusion. In response, her doppelganger — or rather, the crown prince of Doom himself — smirked, a proud glint in her eyes that was foreign to herself.

“Is this Haggar's doing?” She pressed the question, her muscles tense as she found herself cornered, with nothing separating them but the span of six feet.

Lotor raised an eyebrow, his lips stretching into a devilish grin that didn't quite fit.

“Haggar did the exchange between our bodies, but let's give credit where it's due, my sweet,” he said, voice shining with a dark promise of malice, “I was the one to orchestrate all of this.”

He extended his arms and Allura noticed the basket, one that she very much cherished as her favorite, dancing on his fingers.

“What do you plan to do with me, Lotor?” She inquired carefully, eyes trying to track down his intentions, even though she had a very safe guess on the “why”.

His head tilted to the side, eyes of blue dark with his strange malice. Lotor gestured to the table on her side, the delighted smile never leaving his expression.

“My beloved, I will show you _everything_ I have to offer for you. I promised you the universe and now I can show you that I plan on keeping my promise,” he said and words felt even darker in her voice, “But before this—"

He trailed off, kneeling before the safe box and quickly typing a code. Allura felt the adrenaline rushing, trotting, marching inside her veins, a call to action that she couldn't resist.

“Lotor, what are you doing?” Her voice — His voice, the voice of the demon, the same voice that had uttered blasphemies for her friends and confessions for her alone across the battlefield — cracked, the stress almost too much for her to bear. Allura scooted closer, as Lotor rose up again, this time with a green vial on his hand.

With a smirk, Lotor opened the tiny vial, taking it to his lips. Allura felt a burst of strength, as a superior sense of self-preservation kicked in. She strode towards him, grasping the offending wrist with one hand, as panic kicked in stronger than her senses.

Lotor let out a gasp, taken by surprise of the ease that she could bind him. Allura blinked, observing the ever so familiar situation from a different point of view. She broke in a cold sweat, releasing the arm immediately.

Then, Allura watched as Lotor gulped down the entirety of the green liquid all in a quick dose.

The world spiraled as if she had been hit by a ram. Her head spun and she doubled down and snapped her eyes shut in this odd feeling flooding her body.

When she opened her eyes again, she was no more staring at Allura, but at Lotor. He recovered quickly, as Allura still stood dazed, her knees buckling with her own weight. In her hand, the empty vial, not even a drop remaining.

Allura stood still by holding at the safebox, her mind still getting used to a second sudden change. Lotor, on another hand, was already standing up, looking down on her with wary eyes.

She took a few moments to catch her breath again, the feeling of her own body a welcome change. When she looked up, Lotor was still waiting patiently for her to recover. When she finally stood up, straightening her back to meet with the challenge Lotor proposed, he spoke first.

“Why did you let me go?”

Her head was still dizzy from the shift, but she knew better than to stand idly as the dangerous prince stared her. She had many questions, but she would never rely on him to give her answers.

“What do you mean?” Allura evaded the question, trying to breathe deeply while avoiding the inevitable conclusion that she was now alone with Lotor in a Drule ship and probably no one even knew she was there. Allura swallowed hard, now fully aware of the most probable reason why there was a bed in this room.

Lotor squinted his eyes and started pacing a dangerous circle around her, stalking her like a panther playing with its prey.

“You could have subdued me with ease while we were in each other's bodies,” he paused for a moment, measuring if Allura would react, but she stayed quiet, “But you didn't. Why so?”

Allura bit his bottom lip, her heart hammering in her chest as she measured the new situation. In a foreign room with Lotor, holding onto an empty basket, perhaps as someone prepared the ship to go back to Doom at that same instant.

Her options were running out fast and she knew Lotor would not stop until he got answers. So she relented.

“It was out of instinct that I grabbed you,” she lowered her gaze, fidgeting under his stare. When he just huffed in response, an incentive for her to continue, she swallowed hard, measuring her words.

“I think I would have done the same if I was in my own body, but when I saw myself doing the same you do to me,” Allura pressed her lips together as she heard Lotor growling low, deep in his chest, “I had to let go. I wasn't going to let my impulses dominate me.”

Lotor stayed silent for a moment and Allura kept her gaze low, trying to think of a way out of this surreal situation. And, as time passed, the conclusion that she would need nothing short of a miracle to escape from him crawled up her back, dread settling in her chest.

Then she felt a finger hooking under her chin, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Reptilian eyes stared back at her with a flash of unreadable emotion passing for a moment before the glint of pride and arrogance obfuscated it.

“Very well, Princess Allura. You really are nothing short of magnificent,” he chuckled darkly and Allura had to steel her resolve to not tremble under his gaze, “Now, come, I have much to show you.”

He lowered the hand of her chin, extending his palm towards her. _An invite, but also an order._ Allura swallowed hard, pressing her lips together in an attempt of keeping herself calm as she placed her palm on his.

* * *

 

Lotor smirked, observing as she took his hand without hesitation. He was no fool to believe that she accompanied him willingly. The truth still left him with a bitter taste in his mouth and a dull bruise in his pride, but he knew that she, had the opportunity, would flee from him, without hesitation.

But that would change today, he was sure of it.

Her blue eyes stared back at her, a polar rigidity that betrayed none of her emotions. Lotor's smirk cracked into a grin, pleased to see that the moments she had spent in his body had changed none of her dauntless determination.

Part of him could look at her for the rest of day, this woman that surely would be his bride before the day ended, but he knew he had to show her all he promised her.

Squeezing her hand with a gentleness he hardly offered to anyone, he tugged her along, as she accompanied him docile, but mute. As they stood in front of the table, he poured the wine — the same one he had chosen for her and for her alone — in the glass, letting go of her hand.

Allura didn't try for an escape, but she paled, her wide eyes focused on the glass Lotor offered her.

“One for you, my beloved.”

Lotor smiled lazily, his eyes carefully observing the manner her gaze drifted from the glass to his face. She bit her bottom lip and Lotor had to make a conscious effort to keep his eyes on hers. He didn't need to frighten her more with his open courtship. _If my usual practice didn't work, then to hell with it_ , he thought, as she raised her hands in some apologetic but wordless refusal.

_And when she became my bride, I will have all the time in the world to observe her the way I want,_ he thought lazily, nodding in agreement and placing the glass aside, _and even more._

She stood unnaturally still in front of him, in an attempt of maintaining some dignity perhaps or maybe to not betray the maelstrom of emotions.

Lotor observed as she shifted on her weight, the nervousness she felt inside betraying her. He placed a hand over her shoulders, tugging her closer to his chest. Allura gasped and squirmed for a moment, looking at least one shade paler, but, to her merit, she said nothing.

Lotor pressed her back against his chest, leaning in closer to her ear as he gestured to the table before them. He felt a hot, almost boiling sensation on his chest as Allura inhaled sharply, the movement of her chest against his. He leaned in, a satisfied grin on his face as he joyfully noticed her shivers.

“Do you know what is before you, my sweet?” he muttered in her ear, aware of each goosebump rolling her skin as she stayed still, eyes fixated on the table before her.

It would be so painfully easy to just sink his teeth on her earlobe, to hear her surprised gasp and feel the warmth of her flesh. But doing so would merely give him a flicker of pleasure and destroy the fragile moment between them. No, he had brought her there to show what he offered her and to convince her that he meant every promise.

“These are my favorite spoils of war, only the best of the best, brought here all for you.” He let the words sink in for a moment, in an attempt of restraining himself as she let out a gasp of surprise. “Each and every item in this table is from a planet that I conquered and I would bring you many more if you gave me the chance. I told you that you deserved the universe, my sweet, and here is the proof that I can deliver it to you.”

Allura shivered and he leaned back a little, observing with sharp eyes as her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. She was paler than before, her body trembling as her eyes were fixated on some indefinite point. Then her knees buckled and she almost fell on top of the table.

Lotor's eyes widened and he stepped forward, his hands holding her shoulders in an attempt of holding her. Her hands found the table and she managed to not fall, her head bowed loosely as if her strength had given up.

The princess of Arus stood unnaturally still for a few moments, as Lotor hesitated on disturbing her. He didn't know what exactly provoked her visceral reaction; he had never made a secret of his prowess and conquests.

Lotor narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint a sole reason for her distress. But Lotor had always been an impatient man. He let out a low snarl, frustrated more at himself than at her, but it was enough to shake her out of her stupor.

And the stormy gaze, looking down on the table in confusion was soon substituted by a frigid control. The princess straightened her back, taking in a deep breath as she turned around, her cold eyes never leaving his.

“I see.”

The short answer was like a rush of cold water down his spine, painfully freezing his prior excitement. She was like an ocean, no matter how deep or how far he went for her, there was no end or respite for Lotor. He growled in frustration, taking a few steps back as he tried to quickly reevaluate the situation.

“Come,” he commanded, his voice dangerously close of a snarl as he gestured for her to follow him. His chest ignited in a wordless, senseless fury and confusion. But even if he was no patient man, that day was the day that he would do everything, no matter the cost. He got too far to leave without her by his side.

She followed, docile as sheep on the outside, but with eyes of ice, almost like daggers on his back. He stopped on the other side of the table, where he pulled from amongst the trinkets a statue that he had pillaged from a temple, many years before he even met her.

The statue of a bird soaring in the sky, very beautiful indeed, but as beautiful as her.

“Do you see this?” He chuckled, the fire of conquest scorching his veins as he put it before her proudly, but Allura made no other move, “This is the proof of my conquest of Mera, a planet that I invaded long ago. They were subjugated to my troops and my strength.”

He let his words sink in for a moment, meeting her eyes with all of the emotion and flames that he could muster, hoping that she would read in his eyes what he had tried to say in words — and what he would show her in action if she ever let him.

“And I could do it many more times, all for you. Wager wars, burn skies and bring whatever you could possibly want, all for you.”

He softened those last words, his usual powerful voice lowering for her and her alone. Lotor wanted to show her, so he would. She glanced vaguely at the statue in his hands, but her eyes soon drifted back to his, a watery tiredness swimming in her gaze.

“All that I see is a planet of people you destroyed, with other humans no different than myself that you ruined and turned into slaves much like you and your father plan to do to mine.”

He narrowed his eyes, anger boiling in his chest. Once perhaps he would have acquiesced eagerly, boasting that even she recognized that he could turn her planet into a barren wasteland, but the accusation left him with no joy.

He growled, his hands tightening on the frail material. _Any more strength and it will break_ , part of his brain recognized, but the anger inside of him didn't care, as he gripped firmly—

“And you will destroy one of the last remnants of their culture as well now because I've contradicted you.”

Her expression softened, but it was hardly in happiness. Her eyes carried all the sadness of a rainy, lonely day, all tears but with no tears to show for him. He was caught by surprise, trapped in his stupor as she seemed almost resigned that this was the fate of anyone he came near.

Letting out a frustrated noise, Lotor restrained himself, caging his wrath back. His fingers went loose, the statue of this soaring bird almost falling to the ground as he numbly put it back in place.

His eyes snapped back to her, as she glanced back at him with a wordless surprise. Nothing in her body expression betrayed her, her arms and her expression the very same as they started. But Lotor had learned to look into her eyes and know.

And he saw something new. Quiet curiosity, risen from the waters, reflecting his own desire to know as a water mirror.

It was enough to ignite a spark of a chance inside his chest and he took it greedily.

Lotor straightened his back, seeking in that table something that would bring her back to him. If she could have some interest in what he did, then there had to be something in that table that could show her that he was worthy of her.

_“Then you will have to find another way.”_

The creaky voice of the witch rang like a bell in the back of his mind and Lotor had to suppress a smile. He had found a way, scorched in fire and flames, but he would travel through it if it meant having her in his arms.

Then his eyes found the aquarium, not with the dark glass as he had left, but with dragon and fairly exposed, but motionless.

And the suppressed smile turned into a fanged grin, as he looked back at her slowly.

“Seems like you found something of your interest, my beloved.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion and her eyes drifted to where he was looking before. As if a haze had been lifted from her view, Allura understood his words, pressing her lips together, almost sheepishly.

“I was merely looking,” she snapped the response quickly, but before she could give any more explanation, Lotor cut her off.

“It was for you to look, my beloved,” he arched a brow, treading into dangerous waters as he felt emboldened by her response, “I hope you looked and admired other things as well when you were in my body.”

The tip of her ears flared in a bright red and Lotor chuckled darkly, delighted that his soon-to-be bride could grant hin such delightful reactions.

“I did not ‘admire’ you or any of your trinkets, Lotor'” she muttered under her breath, casting her eyes down for a moment before her stance froze to ice.

Lotor noticed the sudden shift in her stance, her muscles stiffening even more than before. He knew before she glanced up that her eyes were as like deep water, abyssal and as mysterious as the ocean.

“You,” she swallowed hard, her arms crossed tightly against her chest, “What _you_ did while in my body, Lotor?”

It was an accusation and Lotor's chest flared upon the challenge. But, for all his deceptions and ruses for her, he refused to let the one time he relinquished his hold on her will to be one of those.

“I did nothing you wouldn't want, Allura,” he spoke low, testing the dangerous waters before him. She narrowed her eyes and he knew she wasn't convinced. At least not totally. But she bid her time, blinking slowly and nodding.

And, seeing that she was much like a warrior who waited for her cue to attack, Lotor smirked pleased, taking one of her hands on her chest on his.

“Come with me,” he commanded, tugging her along, fire scorching his veins once more as he rekindled his pursuit. His pursuit for her, this unreachable nymph that had seduced him without ever trying.

Lotor stood in front of the “abode” as he affectionately called it. She stared at it vaguely, perhaps not to betray an inner interest. He put a hand on her shoulder leaning closer to her ear. She tensed, but made no movement to reject him as he whispered, low and dangerous, “Do you know where this is from, Allura?”

She bit her bottom lip, her eyes trained on the aquarium device in front of her. Lotor couldn't blame her. It was a magnificent piece of work, one that even he had to admit was crafted to function on every circumstance as intended. No matter the gravity or the conditions, somehow it always managed to enraptured someone's attention.

But the princess said nothing, keeping her body tense beside him, not betraying any possible information she might have.

“This is from Planet Zaul, one that I conquered myself,” he savored the words, “If it strikes your fancy, my dear, I could show you and the many other planets that could be yours.”

Her eyes widened, her brow furrowed in confusion as she stepped away from him, leaving Lotor's hand hanging in the air.

“How did you do that,” she asked, her confusion not as admired as he would have wished, but it was better than the cold indifference from before.

He tilted his head to the side, arching a brow. He didn't fancy explaining her the details of a war, but she soon understood her cue, rambling as she explained herself.

“I know, all too intimately, the ways of the wars you fare, Lotor. But Zaul was conquered many years ago,” she fidgeted with her hands, biting her bottom lip before asking, “Lotor, how _old_ are you?”

Lotor narrowed his eyes, trying to pinpoint the point of her question.

“I never thought myself as old, especially when compared to the others in Doom,” he muttered under his breath, “I can assure you, Allura, I'm older than you, but not by much.”

Her eyes were as indecipherable as the tides, ebbing and flowing, dragging him to open sea as he stared back at her, enraptured.

Allura was the first to break the stare, her eyes glancing back nervously to the machine.

“So, when did you conquer Zaul?”

Pride spread on his chest like smoke, hazing his view. His lips stretched into a victorious smirk, as he broadened his shoulders.

“I was but a boy when I conquered Zaul, one of my first planets,” he put a hand on his chest, pleased with his own prowess, “That is, Allura, the very proof of my promises. I can put this universe on its knees for you, my beloved. I could shower you in whatever wealth you desire for, if only you become my wife.”

When Lotor glanced at Allura again, she hadn't moved. She merely stared back at him, confusion obvious in her expression. Lotor stepped closer, slow like a predator, measuring if she would bolt away from him. She did not.

“A boy.”

It was her only whisper.  

Lotor narrowed his eyes, fascinated by the indecipherable puzzle that was the woman before him. She said nothing more, her hands folding and unfolding the only sign of her nervousness. After a few moments of silence, as Lotor seemed none too keen on keeping his eyes off her, Allura muttered under her breath.

“So?” she glanced back at him as if trying to fill the void, “What is that about?”

His lips curled up in a pleased smirk. His suspicions were correct.

“So you were interested in this item in particular.”

Allura narrowed her eyes, extinguishing the embers of pride before they became an inferno. Lotor noticed the subtle chastise and retreated, his pride wounded. A loss, but he would recover. He had to.

“So be it, Allura,” he muttered under his breath, staring back at her with ferocity. Her initial resolve quickly broke, the fury soon substituted by a legitimate fear. She stepped back in instinct, her hand on her collarbone as if to trap a breath as if she dared to breathe he would attack her.

Lotor knew those emotions of hers very well.

His chest burned, a strange emotion flaring up. Even after seeing it many times, this terror and anger on her eyes, it still caused a foreign, visceral reaction on him. He nearly snarled in his frustration, but a call for self-control restrained him.

_“You only bring her more tears and anger, foolish boy.”_ He could hear Haggar's old, creaky voice mocking him in his head. _“Do not blame me if your failure is of your own making.”_

He quietly walked close to the device, pressing a button. The waters inside moved, as if they were waves, the foam forming in the surface. The little fairy, bound to the metal rod, moved in tandem with the waves, staying in place, as the dragon stayed put.

“Guide.”

She whispered, perhaps she barely noticed that had spoken, but Lotor's sharp ears caught on to it one way or another.

“What did you say?”

Lotor looked over his shoulder, observing her quiet reaction. She seemed mesmerized by the waters, perhaps some earthly call to her Lion's element. He didn't know, but she certainly looked stunning, her lips draped open in an exhale, Allura quietly crossing her arms. Her golden hair over her shoulders, a bit ruffled from the hurry. Her eyes seemed to reflect the blue of the waters or were the color of the waters a mere reflection of the blue of her eyes?

Her eyes snapped back to his, as she seemed to notice his staring.

“I mean, that's what the button you pressed said,” she said, quietly fidgeting with her own fingers, “I've some knowledge of the language of Zaul. The other button you pressed means to follow.”

Allura quietened under his stare, as the words that she said slowly made sense in his head. Straightening his back, Lotor shifted his gaze back to the swirling waves and the two figures made out of metal, one dancing with the waves, the other as immovable as stone.

“What do you think this item you see before you mean?”

He hears as she inhaled sharply, perhaps caught by surprise by his strange question. Yet Lotor kept his eyes on the waters before him, as formed in the surface something similar to seafoam.

“Well, to me, it looks like that the little one is fleeing from the snake,” she answered, the hesitation in her tone betraying her confusion and unease. “Zaul was a mostly desertic planet. Perhaps they saw something like the ocean or large bodies of water as the home to threats like this snake.”

Lotor blinked slowly, his eyes shifting from the fairy to the dragon, and from there to the small set of buttons on the side. Even though he didn't look over his shoulders, Lotor could see her expression, the confusion clear as a calm lake in her blue eyes, as she bit her bottom lip.

Wordlessly, he clicked on the last button and the dragon responded to the call. Undulating alongside the wave, the dragon moved in place, snaking his way behind the fairy, but never reaching her.

“The people of Zaul were terribly afraid of large bodies of water, for in the waters of the oceans, there lain together two creatures,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear him, “As far as the inscriptions in their templed said, the waves served as abode for the dragons and, for all their ferocity, each and every dragon followed the water-maidens, the little, benevolent spirits that controlled the seas.”

He brushed the back of his knuckles on the cool glass, observing as the dragon followed the same pattern as the fairy in its undulations.

“Some believed the waves to be the abode of the dragons and that the water-maidens that they share the waters with are the ones who they follow without hesitation. Some believe that the white foam that they spread is a symbol of purity, that all life comes from the water, that the fairies are the ones endowed with the power over the dragons. One, at first glance, might ask themselves what kind of contrast there is between the two figures, but there is no dichotomy, just juxtaposition.”

He quietened, as he heard the way her breath hitched, the click of her short heels as she gave a step back.

“Are we,” she paused for a moment, hesitating, “Are we still talking about the item?”

Lotor smirked, wondering the same to himself, but he banished the thought from his mind. He had one purpose and he had gone too far to come back. He turned on his heels, facing the frightened princess.

She seemed paler than before, but, to her merit, she still hadn't tried to run. _Or slap me, for that matter_ , he thought bitterly, fully aware of her habits. But it mattered none, for she would have to recognize, after so much that he showed to her, that he would keep his promises to her.

“Allura,” he started, his voice strained, “Do you see all of this? Each story behind it, each artifact that is now in my hands symbolizes everything that could be yours.”

She merely stared at him, seemingly with no reaction to his words, other than the same fear mixed with anger that he knew all too well. Lotor nearly growled in frustration, but he put both his hands on her shoulders, startling her into paying full attention to him.

“I promised you the universe a long time ago and I would promise you all of it many times more, because I will keep this oath, as long as you are with me. I will give your wealth, power, planets, whatever you desire, if you only become my wife.”

She looked up to him, bright eyes, trembling with fear. But fear soon froze to anger, this polar, frigid anger that she seemed to reserve to him and him alone.

“I do not believe you,” she hissed through her teeth, leaving the warlord stunned, “You claim that you love me, at every opportunity, you try to kidnap me and subdue my planet.”

Lotor's jaw clenched, the fury feeling more much like lava, searing through his veins. Lotor had always been a man of fiery predispositions and Allura had a tendency of fanning his flames. She stepped back, her fury still as cold as the winter in Arus, but Lotor kept his hands tight on her shoulders nonetheless.

“You have me now, so, no matter what words or what you try to show me, you will do the same to my planet.”

The words came out all at once, the despair and panic finally taking the best of her. Lotor stayed quiet, the words caught on his throat as she continued her onslaught.

“No matter what, I will not yield to you, beast,” she bit her bottom lip, trying to wiggle her shoulders out of his grasp. Lotor tightened his fingers and she whimpered in pain, closing her eyes shut.

He let out a growl.

_“Are you tired of your little kitten, Lotor? She is weak, fragile, you will part her in half when you take her and if she survives, she will die carrying your child.”_ Zarkon's voice ringed loud in his ears, tormenting endlessly as he stood before his little princess.

She was so fragile physically, yet once she caught her breath, she stared him back in his eyes, all storm and tempest in her cold fury.

“You conquered all those planets when you were a child, what is there to say about what you do to mine?” She asked, but all her answer was a snarl, but she was not deterred, “You claim that you love me, yet you burn my planet down and try to kidnap me.”

She stopped for a moment as if the rage and fury took its toll on the gentle princess. Lotor stared back at her, as he saw the change in her eyes. Frozen anger melted into fluid tiredness, the muscles beneath his fingertips slumping in its permanent tension.

“I do not understand you, Lotor,” she whispered softly, the ordeal seemingly too much for her as tears budded in the corner of her eyes, “You claim that you love me, yet you try to kidnap me at every corner. Not even your father supports your obsession anymore, Lotor, please—"

_“How_ do you know about my father?”

Lotor felt his whole body tensing, a shiver running up his spine. His jaw tensed, eyes narrowing towards the gentle woman before him. Allura, on another hand, paled, her brows furrowing in a sheepish confusion.

“What,” she whispered, as her hands found his chest in a futile attempt of pushing him away as he stepped closer, closing the gap between them.

“You said that my father doesn't approve my _obsession,”_ he spat out the word, feeling a sour taste on his tongue, “How do you know that?”

Her skin turned ashen, as her back hit the wall, Lotor almost pinning her against it.

“Your father, he called you when I was in your body.”

Lotor's eyes widened as he let out a sharp gasp, stilling the demure woman entirely. The tears that she held onto finally dripping down her cheek.

_You only cause her more tears and more anger._

This time, the voice was his own, acknowledging the scene before him.

“You,” she sobbed, seeming overwhelmed, “I talked to him, Lotor. I had to call him my _father_. And he told me that he disproved of your obsession for me, you arrogant beast. Why do you keep going with this madness?”

The words overflowed out of her, stress taking the best out of the demure princess. Lotor was suddenly made aware of the pressure he imposed to her, the foolish demands of her friends nothing compared to the ceaseless fury of his father. His teeth ground against each other, the pain nothing compared to the rush of cold water running down his spine as she cried before him, weakened and yet refusing at every cost to submit to him.

“Very well,” Lotor hissed the words through his teeth, venom, and fury mixing in his low, but the threatening tone, “What’s next, Allura? Will you be laughing alongside him, alongside the witch when I fail once more?”

She rose her head as if her eyes were made of ice.

“I don’t understand you, Lotor, what are you talking about, why do you keep going?” she shook her head, her hands falling down to her sides in defeat, the muscles of her shoulders slumping beneath his fingertips. His fury boiled hot, hazing his mind.

“Because you’re the woman I love, Allura. Can’t you see? I’ve shown you everything and yet—"

His voice stopped with a halt, as Lotor paused to observe the scene before him. Beneath his feet, he could hear the soft crunch of the broken vial, perhaps that she had dropped on the first date of the change. The sheets of the bed, the one he had hoped to share with her, crumpled where he once laid down. The ropes, untouched and unused, yet the message was still there. The spoils of war, the loot, the very proof of his conquests, now bringing him more disgust than pride. The ferocious dragon following the little fairy, but never reaching her.  

His eyes got back to her, as he numbly turned back to the woman before him. The tears still streamed down, but it was a quiet cry, as her eyes were frozen, cutting through him like icy daggers. Her hands curled in fists on her sides, prepared to try and fight if it came to it. Lotor flexed his fingers over her and he knew that if he dared to press any more, it would bruise the delicate skin beneath the dress.

“Please, Lotor, get this over with,” her beautiful voice cracked, the resolve slipping through the cracks, “But know that, no matter what you do, I’ll never stop fighting for my planet and my friends, Lotor. I will never yield to you or your father.”

Lotor looked back at her, the flames died out to the embers. She was beneath his talons, he had shown everything he had to offer to her, he had promised and he fought and he had failed.

_Tears and anger._

That was all she had ever granted to him.

His chest burned with an unknown emotion, the strange feeling flooding his chest, seeping out the fatigue in his body, as his fingers loosened on her shoulders, his eyes drifting away from her, vaguely gazing the rest of the room. This had been his gambit on trying whatever he could to bring her to his side and yet he was only met with her endless refusal.

_“Allura—"_

He stepped closer, raising his hand in an attempt to brush away her tears. Allura’s eyes widened, she let out a sharp gasp. Maybe it had been muscle memory, maybe she had been fully aware of what she had done, but her hand raised up and his hands weren’t quick enough to stop the resounding slap that followed.

Lotor took a step back, his right cheek burning, but the strength of the slap itself was hardly more damaging to his body than to his ego. He closed his eyes, his palm cradling his cheek as he stepped back.

Allura took the opportunity gratefully, her heels clicking on the floor as she rushed to the door. He didn’t try to follow her, still gathering the broken pieces of what was left of his pride, but he knew what she would find out.

“Drat this!”

When he turned to her, she was already cleaning up the tears from her face, one hand trying to open the door. But it was useless. He knew that Cossack had orders to close it from outside, in a way that she would be trapped with him, but it was clear that Lotor had miscalculated. He was trapped with her.

As soon as she noticed that the door wouldn’t open, Allura turned on her heels, facing Lotor once more with a wary expression. One that he knew very well.

_Ready to bolt away at the first movement._

Lotor closed his eyes, straightening his back as his hand fell to the side, defeat seeping his strength. _Defeat._ He had done everything to prove her, he had taken her for himself and shown her all he had for her and yet she wasn’t his.

“Cossack,” his voice thundered in the room, enough for Allura to almost jump out of her skin, paling, “Open the door.”

The voice on the other side took a few seconds to answer, hesitating as he did.

“Are you sure about that, sire? I mean, you said to not—"

“I said what I said,” he snarled in his frustration, the already short patience of the Drule even shorter than usual, “Unlock this blasted door.”

The door clicked with high noise, cracking the silence between the two. Allura’s eyes widened when she noticed what he had just done, enough to stir the bitter in his heart, as his chest burned with this foreign emotion, fatigue settling on his muscles.

“Go, Allura. There is no guard other than Cossack and he won’t stop you.” He walked closer to the abandoned basket, where he left it while he still was in her body, “I told your friends that I had gone to pick up berries.”

He held the basket up with two fingers, extending his arm in her direction. With the door on her back, she glanced to the basket warily, eyes nervously snapping from the basket to his face. Lotor narrowed his eyes, as she hesitated to come any close of him even when he had made clear that he was letting her go.

He tossed unceremoniously the basket to her side, falling down with a dull sound as she made no movement towards it. Lotor bit his bottom lip, his eyes searching the aquarium to the side. The device from Zaul still swirled its waves, the dragon uselessly following where the little maiden of the waters guided him, but never reaching anywhere, merely basking on the lair of the waves.

Lotor wandered back to the table, leaning on the table, head bowed in an unmistakable gesture, the burn on his chest relentless as his strength left him.

_Defeat._

* * *

 

Allura leaned against the metal door, her hand frozen on the handle. She pondered for a moment if Lotor was quick enough to catch her if she merely decided to flee, catching her basket and running as swiftly as she could, perhaps even with the hopes of reaching the Castle of Lions fast enough to deploy the Voltron Force.

Yet she stood there, her eyes fixated on the foreign image before her.

Crown Prince Lotor of Doom, son of Zarkon and her most relentless obsessed suitor, leaning his hip on a table, waiting for her to go. After ceaseless ordeals and ruses and ploys, he was just letting her go.

Allura bit her bottom lip, wondering to herself why she was even hesitating. She could run, out of that foreign room, of that strange ship, back to her home and friends. But curiosity got the best of her, as she observed more carefully the strange man before her.

His shoulders were slumped, looking down as if in defeat. The very word seemed foreign to the proud heir of the Drule Empire, yet there he was. His back turned to the strange dragon, that kept chasing his little fairy but never moving out of place. Allura fidgeted with her hands, slowing letting go of the handle.

She narrowed her eyes, catching in his expression something that she had seen before, but only once. This quivering in his muscles, the tense expression, brows furrowed, but not in arrogance. No, she had seen the expression before, as a strange feeling bubbled on her stomach.

Allura saw that expression before the mirror, as she was breaking down on that bathroom.

She bit her bottom lip, the words spilling out of her mouth before she even noticed.

“Are you crying?” It was but a whisper, but it was enough for Lotor to snap his eyes back to her, an inferno rekindling behind his gaze.

“What?” he narrowed his eyes, but made no other move, “I don’t understand what you want.”

Allura pressed her lips together, taking safeness on the fact that the door behind her was open and, despite the danger, she decided to prove his patience.

“Yet you want to cry, don’t you?”

He snarled, his fingers tapping on the table in annoyance — or was it anxiety?

“Do not take pity on me, Allura,” Lotor commanded, his voice assuming its normal tone, yelling, arguing, demanding, “Drules cannot cry as you humans do.”

Allura shrunk on herself, her shoulders slumping. Lotor was unpredictable at best in normal circumstances and Allura was yet to find one word that could describe Lotor’s erratic behavior when it came to her. Impossible to understand, apparently senseless, promising while taking.

She shifted on her weight, taking in a deep breath. She knew that try to test Lotor’s patience on that stage of his instability was dangerous and reckless. Yet the conversation with him and the one with his father tested her mind.

The conquer of Zaul happened when he was but a boy. He was a monster back then, capable of senseless onslaughts and bloody massacres. Yet a feeling of dread settled on her stomach, her blood turned cold as she noticed that whoever the beast that had kidnapped her at every opportunity, tried to burn her planet the same way he did to Zaul and was the son of Zarkon, her father’s murderer, she failed to see where that bestial creature had gone.

He most surely wasn’t before her, not this man with fatigue and tired fury in his expression, almost clear in his body and mind. Yet they were both Lotor, the crown prince of Doom.

Allura did something she never thought she would do, despite the best efforts of her common sense to stop her. She took a step closer to Lotor, hesitantly at first. The prince arched an eyebrow, still leaning against the table, tense and wary, but unmoving. As he didn’t try any sort of ploy to submit her, perhaps even revealing that he never planned to let her go, she took another step in his direction.

“What are you doing?” he hissed through his teeth, his voice cracking in an odd way, “Go away. Before I change my mind.”

He let out the threat as if it was a burden, burning through his throat. Allura halted her steps, inhaling sharply. She was no fool to think that Lotor couldn’t act on his threat if he wanted to. Yet she wanted to do one last thing.

Allura scooted closer, staying beside him once more. She blinked slowly, the strange scene unfolding in front of her. A maelstrom of emotions roared inside her chest, as Lotor stared down on her, jaw clenched. The prior moments of stress caught up to her, as she noticed what was truly happening before her.

“Drules can’t cry,” she whispered and Lotor nodded slowly, his golden eyes fixated on her, “You want to cry, but you can’t.”

Lotor narrowed his eyes and in a sole, fluid movement, he turned on his side, leaning forwards so he was looking her from above, snarling in his impatience. Allura looked up to him and, for the first time, she stared back at him without any fear of the depths of her soul. Allura bit her bottom lip, as Lotor leaned closer, dangerously close.

“Why do you cry?”

His voice was softer than she had ever heard before, in volume but also in the way he spoke. _Sorrow._ She knew that tone very well, the same that had taken over the victims of the Drules when talking about their lost loved ones, the same that she used when she spoke of her defeats, the same when one of the Space Explorers talked about the family each one missed dearly. A sadness of different origins, but that was rooted in some primal emotion that was so inherently _human._

Allura swallowed hard, as she noticed the tears streaming down her face for the first time.

“For both of us,” she let out a humorless laugh, as she acknowledged that she cried for him as well. Perhaps, this strange, sorrowful man before he could have been her friend, at another time, with no war between them. “If you have no tears, then I shall shed one for you.”

He arched an eyebrow, confusion etched in her expression. Lotor shifted on his weight visibly, as Allura let herself cry, silently letting out the stress that was building up on her body and mind.

“It sounds like you are in need of a good cry,” Allura muttered, daring to raise her hand to his face, cupping his cheek with great care. He gasped in surprise, eyes widened for a fraction of a moment, before he relaxed against her touch, leaning down on her hand.

His face was warm and his lips curled up not in an arrogant smirk, as she had expected, but in a small smile. The very face before her was something else altogether, the permanent furrow of his brows relaxing.

“Why do you do this?” his voice betrayed the fatigue he felt on the inside, despite the attempt of keeping some of his strength, “I’ve tried everything for you and yet—"

He let out an exhale, stopping himself altogether, closing his eyes. Allura quietly allowed him the space to relax against her hand before raising her free hand, now cupping both of his cheeks. She traced his sharp cheekbones with her thumbs, the ferocious warlord quieting down beneath her touch.

“I just wanted to tell you something,” she whispered, so tiny and low in the silence between them.

Lotor opened one eye, curious wariness imprinted on his gaze.

“I do not believe anything you have to say for me, my sweet, will ever be enough for me.”

Allura raised her brows in surprise, as he let out a dark chuckle, but the humor did not reach her eyes. She took in a deep breath. Did she dare?

“Still, I need to say it,” she whispered back with a laugh, pushing herself on the tip of toes to plant a chaste kiss on Lotor’s forehead. As she got back to her normal position, she saw his expression changing, as if someone had just dropped a bucket of cold water on the top of his head.

She let out a giggle, her hands leaving his face to brush away her own tears.

“Thank you, Lotor,” she murmured, “For letting me go.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing the rest of the tears away from her face.

“Why are you saying thanks,” he whispered, his voice dropping lower, “When you are still with me.”

When Allura opened her eyes again, raising her head to face him, her nose bumped against his. She was staring back at his unreadable yellow eyes, close enough that every breath in between them was shared. Her hand fell to the sides, hesitating for a moment, her mind torn between pushing him away and staying put.

“I could very easily change my mind,” he whispered, enraptured by her expression. His lips brushed against hers as he spoke and Allura had to stop herself from licking her lips.

“It would be painfully easy to just,” he exhaled, his hands sliding down to hers, entwining their fingers together, enough to kindle a strange flame in her chest. Her cheeks burned with heat and she found herself trapped in her own maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

Did she dare?

“But will you?”

She whispered back to him, recognizing this fire that seemed to burn so bright behind his eyes. Lust, desire, obsession, _love_. Whatever it was, she had seen it countless times, flaring inside of him, this feeling that Allura knew that she was the cause. As he stayed silent, perhaps wondering if he should close the gap.

“Will you let me go, Lotor?”

She inquired once more, pressing her lips together as the haze dispelled and a tinge of fear swelled in her chest, wondering if she had pushed him too far. He squeezed her hands in response for a moment and Allura felt her heart heavy, as she quickly came to the conclusion that she had walked right into his snare once more.

But, instead of tugging her closer, subduing her as he threatened to do, Lotor leaned in slightly, tilting his head to the side as he sealed her lips with his. It was a chaste kiss, but Allura felt the flush up to her ears, the heat of lips searing across her body. She let out a soft whimper, relishing on the feel of him, his lips were warm and wet against her own, a foreign but pleasant feeling. Her eyes widened in surprise as Lotor quickly pulled back, letting go of her hands in the process.

“Go now,” his voice was strained, letting out a sigh as he continued, “It’s soon going to rain and you still have to collect some berries if you plan on convincing your caretakers.”

She took a step back hesitantly, blinking rapidly as she drew back, still dazed by the intimacy they had just shared. Upon seeing her confusion, Lotor merely murmured, shifting on his weight.

“I do believe many of my actions today might restrict your freedom if I understand correctly how your relationship with your caretakers works. My excuse for my escapade was that you were going to pick up berries.”

Allura nodded, pressing her lips together, the wetness and heat of him still lingering on her mouth and on her mind.

“Of course,” she whispered, walking slowly back to the door, picking up the basket that he had tossed in the ground.

Her hand found the handle of the door, but she hesitated for a moment, looking over her shoulder back to Lotor. He was leaning against the table once more, but this time, one of his hands lingered on the glass of the artifact, while the other lingered on his lips. Allura inhaled sharply, noticing that he was tense, the way that his muscles were taut and heavy on his body.

“Lotor,” she whispered softly, the handle half-turn in front of her. He turned his head to her, arching his brows. “Why did you let me go? You could’ve easily subdued me, as you said. Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

He let out a raw, dry laugh, one much different than the dark and arrogant chuckles he had offered her until then.

“I had to let go. I wasn't going to let my impulses dominate me.”

Allura’s face lightened, her lips draping open in realization. She blinked slowly, as the corner of his lips twitched, perhaps suppressing a smile. Then spontaneous laughter burst into the room, as Allura couldn’t suppress herself.

Lotor tilted his head to the side, his whole body perking up as if in curiosity. Allura took a few seconds to calm down, a wide smile across her face. Perhaps she was going insane. Before she was crown prince Lotor of Doom, this strange, erratic man who had for some many times tried to burn down her planet, attack her and everything in between. Except that, during that fleeting moment, Allura forgot all else, contenting herself with teasing him.

“I can’t possibly understand you, Lotor.” She cast her eyes aside, incapable of meeting Lotor’s fiery gaze. As the princess opened the door, she murmured, “You’re an enigma for me.”

“I could say the same for you,” he whispered back as Allura walked away, without looking back a second time.

* * *

 

Arus was a strange planet. A very beautiful one, he couldn't deny it, but a very strange planet indeed. As he expected, Cossack was still taking his nap. Lotor scoffed, fully aware that even if Voltron fell off the sky on that moment, he would just roll on his sleep.

But it didn't matter.

Because Voltron didn't come.

Lotor played with the empty bottle of wine, sitting down on a fallen trunk, close enough of his ship in case he needed to make a quick escape. Yet now he knew it had been an unnecessary precaution.

Voltron didn't come and he didn't attack either.

Lotor looked up to the sky, his senses dulled by the alcohol. It was raining, much as he had predicted before. In this foreign planet — but so familiar in ways that were strange even for him — a rain like that one would be enough for Voltron to have a major field advantage. As if they naturally didn't have the upper hand.

Lotor huffed, toying with the bottle between his fingers.

“How unusual,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else, letting the rain soak his whole body.

She didn't call for Voltron.

Lotor shook his head, looking up to the sky once more. The dark clouds of the storm were like a threat as if daring the prince to stay before her strength. Lotor let out a sigh, getting up of the trunk in one fluid motion.

“Time to go back to Doom, my sweet,” he whispered to the wind, glancing at the general direction of the Castle of Lions.

His only response was the increasingly stronger caress of the wind, as he turned on his heels and got back to his ship, risen from the waters.

* * *

 

“So, uh, sire?” Cossack fidgeted in place, a gesture so restless that would enrage Lotor in normal circumstances. Yet, it was clear that that day was no normal day.

“Yes, Cossack?” he said, his head still far away from the conversation as he strode down the hallways

“Why are we going to the witch's lair anyway?” he asked, scratching his chin.

Lotor looked to the side, as Cossack walled alongside, an enigmatic smile dancing on his lips.

“You'll see.”

Lotor had many other things in his mind other than the cost the witch had asked of him. Soon they were before the large doors of her laboratory and, before Lotor could even knock, the doors opened with a creak, revealing the witch in her hags.

“I see that you're back already, sire, but,” she trailed off as if she was daring him to complete her phrase. Lotor's lips curled up in a smirk, but the humor didn't reach his eyes.

“I pay no respects to you, witch,” he spat out, less than willing to reveal what he had shared with Allura, “But I brought your payment.”

He pointed to Cossack with a thumb as the witch took a step to the side.

“Wait, what,” Cossack barely had the time to react as Lotor pushed him inside of the witch's lair. Haggar cackles as he fell face-flat on the ground.

“I hope you don't break him too hard, witch,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow as she closed the doors.

“I'm not as bad as you, Lotor,” she cackled from the other side, “I will actually give him some time off instead of bothering him.”

Lotor arched an eyebrow but didn't answer any further. Perhaps, on a normal day, he would be enraged by Haggar's mockery, but it was no normal day.

He strode back to his quarters, his mind relaxed despite the intense day. As soon as he had got back to Doom, as he suspected, his father demanded his presence. It could only end one way, Lotor knew. It wasn't hard to predict.

Nonetheless, Lotor smiled to himself, feeling strangely satisfied at the moment. Not proud or arrogant, but glad. It was a foreign feeling, but Allura had always been way too good at surprising him.

His fingers slid back to his lips as he closed his eyes, left alone with his own unwavering thoughts, staring at the sole artifact on the corner of the room, the dragon taking shelter on the fairy's waves.

* * *

 

Allura sniffed, sitting cross-legged on her bed. The storm thundered on the outside, as she observed the way the drops knocked on the window. On her side, there was the basket of berries she had collected after her odd encounter with the prince of Doom.

The princess shifted on her weight, leaning her back against the backboard of the bed. After she had got back to the Castle of Lions, most of her companions’ behavior had changed. Allura pressed her lips together, wondering to herself what had Lotor done while she was trapped in his body.

Sick as Allura was, having stayed in the rain for far longer than she should have, Nanny normally would be all over her. Maybe Coran with his stern lectures. Perhaps the boys on her doorstep asking if she was fine.

But they were rather succinct and, for that much, Allura was grateful. She blinked slowly, silently thanking Lotor for whatever he had done. She needed time for herself.

Instinctively, her hand found her lips, as if she was still suspended in the disbelief that everything that had happened had _truly_ happened. According to Coran, they were tracking one of the employees that had slipped poison on her drink. She could only assume that was how Lotor managed to make the exchange between their bodies.

She let out a sigh, her arms suddenly feeling heavier as the confusion of the events still caught up to her.

She was still trying to avoid thinking about the kiss.

As the memories of the day came rushing back to her, Allura was glad to have some company at least.

“If it isn't my most loyal subjects?”

Her lips curled up in a smile, happy to have something else to distract her from her stray thoughts. The mice gathered around her, but they hesitated before jumping over her shoulders. As they chippered happily around her, Allura arched an eyebrow, noticing the brief reluctance.

“What's it, Cheddar?”

The biggest mouse puffed his chest and furrowed his eyebrows, his happy chirping turning into angry rambles. Realization dawned on her quickly and she let out a small gasp, entertained by the idea.

“I must have been really bothersome earlier, didn't I?” she murmured softly, sneezing soon after, “I can't believe he was rude even to you all.”

Cheddar nodded happily as Allura caressed the soft fur. But there was still one question to make.

“See, Cheddar,” she swallowed, the mice all turning to her curiously, “Did I do anything _lewd_ today?”

She whispered, so low that she could barely hear her own voice, but the mice caught it anyway. They stared at each other, tilting their small heads to the side. Allura knew exactly what that meant.

_“No,”_ she whispered, her fingers finding her lips, “He kept his word.”

She felt like the very proof of Lotor's honesty was enough to set her body on fire, kindling this flame of _desire._ Allura bit her bottom lip. The very word _desire_ felt improper, but after his soft lips, she didn't know anymore.

The prince of Doom was harsh, brutish and overbearing, he had proven repeatedly that he was cruel and remorseless, the son of Zarkon there with the objective of having her for him and conquering her planet. Yet Lotor had shown a glimmer of something else, something entirely new to her and just those fleeting moments alone in his ship were enough to shake the whole structure of her perspective.

"I must be going insane."

They were enemies, ultimately that was all they were. But there, in the safety of her bed as the rain quietly sheltered her from the outside world, Allura dared to fantasize about this man made out of contradictions.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up way more serious than I had previously planned, but it was a fun story to write nonetheless.  
> Also, I should mention that the whole "abode of dragons" when related to the waves is indeed a thing in real life, at least for some Chinese traditions. I was messing around with a book about symbolism and I couldn't resist the idea.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, all comments/kudos/affection are appreciated!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/reviews/kudos are always appreciated!!!


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